


De Novo

by margarettt



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Other, The Sims, second life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-01 13:12:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/margarettt/pseuds/margarettt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The following is my own interpretation of how I think the kids may have met before they all became best friends and started the game. If Hussie ever does decide to tell us how exactly they all met, this will be pointless and not funny. So, let's watch our kids grow up and play our favorite games (including but not limited to the Sims, Second Life, World of Warcraft, and Animal Crossing) and visit our favorite websites (again, including but not limited to deviantArt, MySpace, Quizilla, and even Furcadia). At least, favorite games and favorite websites when we were ages 10-13. Furthermore, watch them grow up, face the struggles of the most awkward years of our lives, and most importantly, become best friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	De Novo

**Author's Note:**

> In which John is a sweet and innocent ten-year-old, and meets Dave Strider.

**i. BE JOHN.**   
  


Your name is John Egbert. You're ten years old, and this Christmas, your father has gotten you a computer of your very own!   
  
This year, you were assigned your first actual report on your favorite president, and it brought two important things to light. First, that Theodore Roosevelt was, and still is, the coolest person ever. And second, you could no longer continue using your father's computer in his study. 

  
As you and your father put the machine together, he tells you how proud of you he is, and that you're really growing into a fine young man. But most importantly, that this computer is a big responsibility. You are your father's only son, and legitimately the main source of joy in his life, and that the internet is a dangerous place, wrought with pedophiles, identity thieves, and other unspeakable horrors in pixelated colors that could easily lure in his sweet, innocent son. 

  
"I know dad," You say, already growing tired of this lecture, and anxious to install some of the games that you got to go along with the computer. "I won't even tell anyone my name!" You continue. "I'm gonna say my name is Theo." 

  
Your father chuckles heartily, affectionally ruffling your hair. "That's my boy! I'm so proud of you."   
  
In addition to the computer, some of the games that you opened under the tree this year were roller coaster tycoon because you loved amusement parks like every ten-year-old, the Sims because you specifically said you wanted to play that game, a game where you're a magician and have to solve puzzles and make potions, and a baking game that you really aren't interested in, but your father loved. He was the owner, manager, and head-baker of the most successful virtual bakery to ever exist, or at least sort of exist.   
  
You install the Sims and create a family of you and your father. Your sim counterpart is a tall, muscular young adult, and stark contrast to your bespectacled, small, and chubby around the middle self. Your father looks more or less the same, and enjoys improving his cooking skill. Your sim finds a job in the military and you enjoy watching your-virtual-self grow stronger to fit the demands on your occupation. While you're at it, you make a virtual counterpart for Christen, the girl in your class who is the spitting image of Liv Tyler, were she ten-years-old. Christen falls in love with the strong and charismatic Theodore John, and are wed in a small, but very nice ceremony.   
  
You spend the remaining week of your holiday break playing with yours and Christen's virtual family, watching your son and daughter grow, and seeing yourself accomplish the highest feat in the military and go to the moon. Having to return to your middle school schedule was quite the shock. At lunch, you sit with Micky, your closest friend and neighbor from across the street, two houses down, and tell him about how great your sims are, in great detail.   
  
"Have you played Second Life?" He asks.   
  
"No."  
  
"It's kinda like the sims."   
  
Your interest peaks. "Really?"   
  
"Yeah, sims online."   
  
You go home as excited as you were on Christmas Eve, but upon mentioning that it's online to your father, he quickly shuts down the notion, asking if you have any idea what kind of people are on there.   
  
You apologize, and he forgives you, but Micky does not the following day.   
  
"It's fine." He assures you. "My parents are cool with it."   
  
You have a heated battle within your self about going against your father's wishes, which you had done a few times before with mixed results. Sometimes, he just scolded you, or sent you to your room, or revoked dessert privileges for a week, but none of these were entirely horrible, especially considering the fun you'd had before getting caught. (Drawing on the walls was the most rewarding.) Like most children your age, you go with your rebellious instincts and find yourself downloading Second Life.   
  
Upon download completion, you suddenly realize you had no means of contacting Micky within the game, and you shamefully close the window. You open sims and your virtual-counterpart takes a break from teaching your daughter, Casey, how to walk, in order to prepare several cakes for your father's sim.   
  
Micky quells your fears the next day with a new suggestion. "Download Pesterchum."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"An instant messenger."   
  
"I don't know…" You hesitate.   
  
"Everyone uses it. Tell your dad you're talking to me."  
  
That was a good enough solution for you. 

 

**ghostlyTrickster [gT]** has begun pestering **MickyBaseball [MB]** at 3:14 PM.   
 **gT:**  hi micky! its john!!   
 **MB:** hey u on 2nd life   
  
Micky guides you through the basics of Second Life over the following few weeks. You character, Theodore Briggs, was a tall, stately gentleman, well dressed and quite mannerly. You chat with people occasionally, acting like it's no big deal, but when you received your first IM from a stranger, you feel a pang of fear and excitement go through you like a booster shot, the fear being the impact of the needle, and the excitement being the slowly releasing serum. And after the initial pain, it truly was no big deal to you.    
  
The majority of your time after school was spent with Micky, however, after a fight with his sister, he was banned from the internet for a week.   
  
You return to your sims for a while, but after a month of Second Life, you find the Sims too static for you, and you log on by yourself for the first time. Moderately familiar, you wander around for a few hours, chatting it up with some strangers when someone mentions a gig they were going to see.   
  
"The kid who's DJing is only like 11!" They exclaim.   
  
You were taken aback, because you would never flaunt your actual age on here; Theodore Briggs was twenty-five! You say it sounds cool, and asked if you could join.   
  
The "gig" is held at an urban styled club. The inside was dark, with the few lights being shades of neon shades. Theodore's Victorian and gentlemanly appearance must seem rather out of place, but you were anxious to see someone your own age and not afraid to admit it.   
  
The DJ's avatar is dressed in elaborate armor, clearly Asian of some sort and in fashion sometime before the last century (or two), and sunglasses. And the music is like nothing you'd ever heard before. The bass is everywhere - it's almost palpable - and the beats are so finely woven between powerful female vocals and the raps of angry men, with the occasional interlude of birds flapping their wings and loud caws. Your experience with music is nothing to brag about. MTV is forbidden in your house, and other than the piano pieces for your lessons, the only other music you're exposed to is the doo-woop your father is so found of. This sound fascinates you.   
  
He plays for a solid two hours, never letting a second pass without sound, before bowing and saying, "TECHSAN OUT."   
  
You simply have to talk to him. He's not only your contemporary, but a musical genius.   
  
You send him an IM saying, "wow! that was so great!!"   
  
He doesn't respond for five minutes, and you fidget before typing, "i'm 10."  
  
 **Theodore Briggs:** wow! that was so great!!  
 **Theodore Briggs:** i'm 10.   
 **TECHSAN:** 10 wut?  
 **Theodore Briggs:** 10 years old!!  
 **TECHSAN:** i wudnt go around braggin bout that  
 **Theodore Briggs:** i heard someone saying you were 11  
 **TECHSAN:** i am  
 **Theodore Briggs:** wow! really?!  
 **TECHSAN:** yup  
 **Theodore Briggs:** i haven't met anyone on here my age yet  
 **Theodore Briggs:** let alone someone as cool as you!!  
 **TECHSAN:** i am cool beyond my yrs  
 **Theodore Briggs:** why are you dressed up as a ninja??   
 **TECHSAN:** im not a fuckin ninja  
 **TECHSAN:** ninja r rogues who have no loyalty to a house or clan or name  
 **TECHSAN:** i trained for yrs under my senseis firm but loving guidance   
 **TECHSAN:** i live for this and i would die for this  
 **TECHSAN:** i am a goddamn samurai   
  
You're taken aback by the reaction and his word choice. In the Egbert house, dirty words like "butt" and "fart" were prohibited! In addition to being a potty mouth, he was also pretty smart. At least, about samurais or ninjas. You don't want to stop talking to him, but changing the subject might be a good idea.   
  
 **Theodore Briggs:** you know a lot about asian stuff!  
 **TECHSAN:** japanese stuff  
  
Yeah, you definitely need to keep the topics distinctly western from here on out.  
  
 **Theodore Briggs:** where did you learn to make music like that?   
 **TECHSAN:** my bro  
 **Theodore Briggs:** your brother?   
 **TECHSAN:** he's basically the coolest motherfucker on the planet  
 **TECHSAN:** dj to end all djs  
 **TECHSAN:** champion of swords  
 **TECHSAN:** career badass  
 **Theodore Briggs:** i bet he couldn't take on theodore roosevelt  
  
TECHSAN, as he's called, takes a moment to respond, but when he does, he unleashes the following: 

**TECHSAN:** my brother wud swagger up to teddy fuckin roosevelt poke him in his fat gut and kick those glasses off his face w/ the grace of a goddamn ballerina   
  
You are almost driven to tears, and you swallow. Though you know it's impossible, Theodore Roosevelt had taken the place in your heart traditionally saved for a grandfather figure. You barely remember your grandmother, but no grandfather figure was even mentioned to you, so you had taken the liberty to imagined one up. The one who you'd imagined up, however, just so happened to be exactly like Theodore Roosevelt. 

 

**TECHSAN:** but he wudnt bcuz my bro respects his fuckin elders   
  
And at that, your eyes go dry and wide.   
  
 **Theodore Briggs:** your bro sounds so cool!   
 **Theodore Briggs:** i wish i had a brother  
 **TECHSAN:** he is  
  
You check the clock in the bottom corner of your monitor, and realize it's eight o' clock! You haven't even taken your shower and only have a half hour until bedtime!   
  
 **Theodore Briggs:** hey i gotta go   
 **Theodore Briggs:** but do you have a pesterchum?   
 **TECHSAN:** duh  
 **Theodore Briggs:** mines ghostlyTrickster  
 **TECHSAN:** ill hit u up sumtime trixie  
 **Theodore Briggs:** my name's not trixie!!  
 **TECHSAN:** wat shud i call u then?   
 **Theodore Briggs:** theo!   
 **TECHSAN:** nice im dave 

  
And that is how you meet Dave Strider. 


End file.
